Resolving Old Demons
by qsmadness007
Summary: Set mostly from Doug's POV, after Joey Potter and the Capeside redemption A new person comes into Doug's life who understands him more than anyone has. Also, Doug gets help from his brother, when he least expects it.
1. Breaking Down

Resolving Old Demons  
Author's note: This is my first DC fic. There may be more.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Dawson's Creek, they are owned by Kevin Williamson, and Sony pictures and who ever else owns them.  
Rating: PG-13  
Brief Summary: This takes place after Joey Potter and the Capeside Redemption. It is told from Doug's pov, and I am using some of the information from the season finale, but this might be a little different because I haven't decided if I want all the things to happen, to happen.

Part 1: Breaking Down  
A fleeting thought of drowning myself enters my head again as I take the badge off my chest, and set it on my nightstand. I don't like this feeling, this feeling of depression, and these suicidal thoughts that seem to be creeping more and more into my head lately. I begin to unbutton my shirt as I walk past the mirror. I stare into the mirror for a second, faking a smile, my eyes look like they are harbouring a deep secret, which to even me at times seem to be unknown. I wonder if anyone in my family notices, probably not. The Witters never seemed to be one to be very perceptive on the things that matter, just the things that can be used to hurt each other. Not like I have room to talk since I have said a lot of harmful things to push my family's buttons as well.

I sigh deeply, and sit on the bed carefully. Not that it matters if I mess up the sheets on the bed, I just have this feeling I don't need to. I hate this feeling that I have to keep everything nice and clean, like someone is going to walk in and judge me, because I don't have something exactly where it should be. I put my head in my hands. I feel miserable, and the thoughts of if I did die no one would care are pushing there way into my head again. They are coming more and more lately, and I am forgetting some of the tricks I used before to suppress them, or they aren't working.

There is a knock on the door, and I lift my head to see a head mop of brown hair peeks into the room. "Hey Doug." Pacey, my younger brother, comes into the room, dressed in his pajamas. His hair in disarray and I wonder if he was waiting for me. He leans in the door way as if he owned the room. It almost made me regret that I said he could stay at my apartment a couple weeks, why his apartment is being renovated.

"What is it little brother?" It sounds more angry than I intended, and I frown.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing? Can't I do that?" He gives me one of his famous Pacey Witter con man smiles.

"What do you want?"

"Who said I wanted anything?"

"Because you never just come to talk to me, you always seem to want something." I slump a little, and lay myself across the bed staring at the ceiling. I think the next place that I live in I am going to get a place with out a popcorn ceiling, I hate them. They seem to fall down on people too easily.

"Are you okay?" There is a shift in his voice, one that almost seems like concern, which I am not sure is true or not. I feel the vibrations on the floor as he walks into the room farther, padding his way on the beige carpet, when close to the bed, I feel him sit on the floor.

"You almost sound concerned, Pacey." I shouldn't be so harsh with him. I just don't really want to talk to anyone right now. Especially with him, I always feel like there is this conflict between us that neither of us knows what it quite is, or if we do we refuse to acknowledge it. I guess I could remedy that some by being nicer, and I try sometimes. I know I am being cruel, because I feel like lashing out at people for my feelings like this, and I shouldn't take it out on him.

"I am concerned. You have been acting strange for a couple weeks. I wanted to see if there was something you want to talk about. You are starting to scare me, Doug, you have been moody, and then, when you aren't moody you have these strange surges of anger that seem to be coming from nothing…"

"It's probably my repressed, homosexuality." I cut him off angrily.

"I wasn't going to go there, this time…"

I sit up on the bed, and watch him. "What if it is though?" I turn my voice serious, watching him intently.

"I thought you weren't gay?" He says this with seriousness, as if all mentions of my sexuality were a joke before, even though at times they hadn't seemed.

"I'm not…I'm …" I stop myself, watching him. I can't tell him what I have known all along, he won't accept it well. I don't want it to seem like he won. Not that there was anything to win per say, I just don't like the thought that someone else controlled my destiny. I already let my dad do it far too much. I look down at the floor, and run my fingers nervously through my hair. I sigh, and lower my voice, "I think I am bisexual, Pacey…which must make you thrilled, since you were partially right all the time." I put my head in my hands again. I feel even worse now that I have said it than I did before when I was keeping it locked up inside of me. That is where I should just leave it.

I feel him get off the floor, and sit on the bed beside me. "I want you to be happy, Doug, I don't want you to feel guilty for who you are." I turn slightly and look at him, wondering when my little brother grew up, how did I miss that. Was I too caught up in our banter and bickering to actually realize that he might actually understand where I am going through. He puts his arm around me cautiously. "Look, it may seem like I don't see it, but I know you have had it tough, and I never was one to help. But we become a lot closer than we once were especially recently…" He stops watching me.

I frown deeper, turning my gaze away from him…I don't know what to say to him. Okay, that is a lie, I have an idea of what to say to him, but I don't want him to see me cry. I don't want him to worry about me. I don't need that, he had more important problems. He just re-opened the ice house, and he is trying to keep it afloat, and I am sure he has other problems that are more important than worrying about me.

"You know you never answered my question. Are you okay, Doug?"

"No." I move slightly where his arm moves from around me. I appreciate the comfort, but it seriously is going to make me cry. I am starting to get the urge where I want to curl up in someone's arm and cry myself to sleep. I move off the bed, and walk towards the closet, facing the door.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What do you want me to say Pacey, that all the years I yelled at you that you were a failure, it was because I was, that I am a disappointment that I am not important that I shouldn't even be here!" My rage slips in my voice, as I say this, and I pull myself on the floor, feeling the tears forming in my eye. Damn it, I don't want him to see me cry.

"Doug?"

"Just leave me alone, will you Pace…please.."

"Are you sure, I am not sure if you should be alone right now."

"Just leave me alone."

There is a pause for a few seconds. "Okay."


	2. Hope in the rain

Part 2 "Hope in the rain"  
I woke up at 5:00 am. I could have slept longer, but I wanted to be out of the house before Pacey woke up, incase he wanted to talk to me about last night. I shouldn't have said anything I should have kept my mouth shut. It is easier at times if I just leave these mad thoughts in my head. He probably thinks I am weak now, and that he wonders why he trusted me for advice all these years. I give good advice sometimes; I just never have been good at asking for it. For asking for help.

I sit in my office drinking coffee, listening to the pouring rain outside. The station house is deserted. It always seems to be. There are 15 officers on the force, and about 10 volunteers, but you would think with that many people on the force, the station house would always seem full. I wonder sometimes about my job now as Sheriff, the only difference between when I was a deputy, is that I have an officer. I still seem to be at times the only officer at a scene, or patrolling the neighborhoods, or taking care of citizen complaints. I wonder sometimes how my dad even ran this place, most of the other officers didn't really like him. They seem to despise him, and they tried to stay away, especially since he had a violent temper. He wasn't very nice to them it seemed, or it might just have been he was harder on me because I was his son. I don't know.

I hear footsteps in outside, and I set my coffee down on the desk, and reach for my gun. I carefully get up and open the door. A drenched figure is walking past the front desk, there is no one there anyway, as of now. His hair plastered to his head, and his eyes are drawn to the floor to make sure his loafers aren't tracking in water. His white shirt is drawn close to his skin, and I have to turn away slightly, I need to stay business like, I don't need to be ogling citizens. I put my gun in my hostler, and take a deep breath and put on a professional face, turning back in his direction. As I do, his blue eyes lock with mine, and I stop for a moment, struggling to say something. I have realized a couple weeks ago I was developing a crush on him, so, this visit is very much of a surprise.  
"Hi, Sheriff Witter." His voice is calm and friendly. He seems slightly uncertain as well, we haven't had much contact, I mainly know him from Pacey.

"You can call me Sheriff Doug if you want. What can I do for you Mr. Mcphee?" I probably sound corny.

"Jack." He gives me a soft concerned smile.

"What can I help you with, Jack?" The name sounds nice rolling off my tongue. He probably just wants to complain about his students or something. I need to not get use to the fact that I may ever say his name again.

"Pacey asked me to talk to you."

"What?" I arch my eyebrows sharply. I am not sure why Pacey would have him speak to me. I hope this isn't about what I said last night.

"He is concerned about you. He wanted me to talk to you because I might be able to help, or in the least because I am a neutral party, who doesn't have the Witter sense of cruelty." He gives me another soft smile, which tugs at my heart. I wonder if he knows that he could be on a soap opera.

"I don't know…I am not sure if there is anything I can talk to you about…"

"That is okay, this is difficult for me, too…because this is probably a bad time, but I have had a crush on you for months, which is why I always seem to leave when you come to hang out with Pacey." He looks down at the floor. "Sorry that is not what I came to talk about…" He raises his head slightly at an angle, "I know what it is like to have a rage inside, and also to have a deep depression, and feel like you don't belong… And I can't say I have completely overcome both…But if you need someone to talk to, I can be a good listener." He turns to go, as if embarrassed he revealed the crush to me. He seems torn, because I do believe him when he said he didn't come over to tell me that.

"Wait…"

He turns to face me, deep concern in his beautiful eyes.

"I do need someone to talk to…but I don't want to be a burden…" I drop my eyes to the floor. "I like you, too…I just didn't know how to tell you."

He stops and walks closer to me. He pulls me into a hug, not saying anything, but it seems at the moment he doesn't have to, and for some mysterious reason he seems to know it.


	3. coffee and conversations

Part 3 : Coffee and conversations

I feel safe in his arms as I take in his scent. He smells like a mixture of the rain, a slight trace of cologne and toothpaste. The fear that is always in my mind of my secret thoughts being revealed creeps into my mind, and I reluctantly pull away from him. My blue eyes concentrate on his concerned face, not knowing what to do. I've never really been hugged by a man, except Pacey a few times, but those were always brotherly hugs. I am not sure what to do now. I have always been curious what it would be like to have some man hug me, and it not be one of those manly sort of pat on the back hugs that they like to dole out to woman. I didn't expect it to feel so much like if I were coming home, and I am not sure what to do now.

Butterflies are starting churning in my stomach, which is something I haven't felt in a long time, and this scares me even more. I turn from his face, and stare at the tiles on the floor, looking at my reflection in the recently polished linoleum, and it makes me remember I don't know the last time they actually washed the floor, but it must have been recent, since we track a lot of mud into the station day by day. "I'm not sure what to say, this is a bit awkward." My voice is almost a whisper as it comes out, and I keep my eyes to the floor, as it realizes it sounds much like my feminine timber which comes out sometimes, which I guess is partially my fault since I have a medium range voice to begin with. It one of the reasons sometimes I don't talk, I stare people down, because they seem to expect me to have this deep timbre, and then, I speak and they seemed surprised.

He chuckles softly, and slightly nervously. He gives me a warm smile, and says, "I've never really talked to anyone about my depression either, so it is sort of a new experience for us both. But I had a friend once when I was going through a rough time would just sit with me quietly, and when times got really rough, she would hold my hand." 

I glance up at him, confused a little. It sounds like a tradition of some kind among his friends that they have passed on. Something I am missing out on. I was always envious of Pacey and his friends, they seemed to have strong connections. I frown a little, and sigh softly.

"If it helps, we can just go into your office, and have coffee or something...and talk about pointless things. We don't have to talk about what Pacey wanted us to talk about since I know it is hard." He gives me another soft smile, and I glance to the floor again. His smiles are making me feel weak in the knees. I feel like I am going to fall down.

"I'm surprised you would even come here, normal people don't get up at 5:30 to help a brother's..." I take a slow breath, "a friend's brother." It feels like the words are sinking into the tile floor, and I wonder if he heard me.

He puts a hand on my shoulder. "Well, I was up and have class soon...and your Pacey's friend, too, which means you are my friend."

I look up at him again, noticing for the first time, he is almost my height, almost a centimeter and a half shorter. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him, not having to really bend down or him to stretch up. It is said that for the most part usually people can only have a same height kiss when they are sitting down or lying down, or something. His lips look soft, and like he applied Chap Stick to keep them shielded from the heavy wind outside. "Do you want some coffee...I have some in my office." I am not sure what to say about his comment; he probably thinks I am foolish, switching the subject. I mean I figured he would be up, but the thing about being Pacey's friend; I am not sure what to think. For awhile, I tried to be his enemy, the normal big brother, but as we both grew older, I just tried to be his friend, though I did a bad job at it I think. Even though recently we have been becoming closer than before.

"Coffee is good." He gives me a smile, as if to say, I am in charge of the conversation.

His smile allows me to take a deep breath, and to collect my mind a little as I start to walk towards my office. "I have some food in my office too, donuts, cereal. I am sure you are hungry."

"So, is cereal a breakfast food for you?" His voice seems playful, and curious, and there is something I like about how he asks the question. I hear his footfalls following me.

I stop walking and turn to him for a little. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

"I actually eat it more times than I should. It is my secret vice."

He chuckles. "Me, too... well, I don't hide it...But I like to eat it more than most people."

I give him a soft smile.


	4. Enjoying some cereal

Part 4: Enjoying some cereal.

I pour him a cup of coffee in one of the mugs that I have in my office for guests. "What do you take in your coffee?" I set it on the edge of my desk so I can get to the fridge

"Just a little whole milk, if you have it." I

I open the little black fridge where the mugs are sitting on, and pull out a half gallon of whole milk. I lift my eyebrows a little, and point to the label, with mock questioning. I open it and sniffing it, pretending to faint from the smell.

He laughs. I think it is nice, I can amuse him to as well as gain sympathy. It makes me give him a soft smile.

"Pacey must have bought this." I joke. 

"You should throw it out then; it must be a year old." He has taken to sit on the green couch at the front of my office, which I am actually glad he chose to sit there, because the chairs in front of my desk are uncomfortable. I have been meaning to upgrade them, as they are a throwback from when my dad was sheriff. But I haven't had time yet, I have been trying to upgrade other parts of the station, since I feel it is better that everyone is comfortable before my guests and me are. After everything else gets done, I am going to revamp the whole office though.

I chuckle at this. "He really never did that did he?"

"You probably lived with him longer, you should know." He gives me a soft smirk.

I nod, and turn to pull a little of the milk into his coffee. "I just bought the milk yesterday." I hand him the coffee.

He takes a sip, and sets it on the coffee table in front of him. "What kind of coffee is this?"

"A mix of Columbian and Kenyan." I go to the small filing cabinet near the fridge, and pull out a super sugary box of cereal, and a more mature cereal. "I forgot to get bowls, so, we'll have to eat out of mugs. Which kind do you want?"

"You really don't eat that wheat stuff do you?"

"Occasionally." I put it back in the cabinet; I much prefer the sugary cereal anyway.

"Good choice." He takes another sip of his coffee. He gives me another smile.

I flip over two of the mugs on top of the fridge, and bring them over to the coffee table, setting them down. I grab the milk and cereal and set it down on the table. I then go to the file cabinet, and pull out a bag of plastic spoons, pulling out two, and then snagging my coffee from atop the desk, and walk towards him. I set the spoons and coffee down, and sit tentatively on the end of the couch. Before I can say anything, he is pouring some cereal and milk into one of the mugs. He hands me the mug, and then continues to make his own. I pick up one of the spoons, and take a bite watching him out of the corner of my eye. He is putting the lid back on the milk. He catches my eye, and gives me a soft smile. I remember why he is here, and it makes me a little sad. I am not sure what to say to him.

"I tried to commit suicide more than once. So, I know what it is like to have suicidal tendencies."

He catches me off guard, mid-bite, and I stare at him. It is weird it seems almost as if he has some connection to my inner psyche. I finish the bite. "I've never tried, but I have thought about it. I don't understand though, I thought the beautiful people won't suppose to have problems like that."

"But you yourself can be classified as a beautiful person, but you have problems like that." He takes a sip of coffee, and moves slightly towards me on the couch.

"Maybe...I don't know...I not suicidal most of the time, I just don't want to go on." I look at my coffee.

"Like you don't want to be judged anymore, and you feel guilty for how you want to live your life."

I turn in his direction again, studying his face. His soft blue eyes, which are filled with concern, and understanding, his chiseled chin, his soap opera like features, and it makes me wonder why I didn't see the connection before.


	5. Shattered Silence

Part 5: Shattered Silence

A/N : This part has a plotline that is connected to my story _Boxed In_, but you don't have to read it to understand the section.

He is watching me, patiently as I finish my cereal, and he finishes his. We have been sitting this way for 15 minutes. He scares me, in a good kind of way. It is like I have butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I haven't felt that way about anyone for a long time. And he also scares me in a bad way. I am not sure where to begin. I have grown up since I was 8 with the belief I had to do everything that people tell me, and that I am supposed to be a man. According to my father, men don't shed tears, they don't get sad, and they don't talk to people when they are having problems that seem like what any normal woman would go through.

He finishes his cereal, and he leans towards me slowly, and wipes away some milk from my face. I set down my mug, finished, and watch him. I have to fight the urge not to pull him into a kiss. He seems to feel comfortable with me, like he has known me for years. Well, he has known me sort of as Pacey's brother, as member of the Capeside police. But he seems like he really knows me, like no one has known me for a long time. He moves his hand away from me, and I reach for it softly. "I don't know what to say, but do you think you can just sit here and hold my friend like you said your friend did."

He smiles. "Sure. I told you before we don't have to talk about anything you feel uncomfortable to talk about."

I hear someone outside, and instantly get up, feeling guilty to investigate. He sits calmly, watching me with caring eyes as I walk out the door to see what it is.

My brother is standing near the office door, pretending he is looking for something. He seems out of place in his chef's uniform, mainly because it makes him seem like he is better than Capeside and this small police station. I know one day he will be able to get out of this town, and do something great.

"What is it little brother?" I ask, pretending that I am annoyed. I begin to walk towards him.

"I know I ask Jack to come over and talk to you, but I was worried about you." He frowns. He is holding something behind his back. He pulls it out, and I know instantly what it is. "What is this?"

"A book." I say, glancing instantly to the floor. I didn't think he was going to find it. I don't really want to explain to him why I have it. I wanted to bury that part of me, but it has been getting harder to do lately, especially since I notice my temper flaring up at odd times.

"A book on adults who were abused as children? Is this for research, or is there something I need to know?" I glance at him sideways, he looks scared. And I get the feeling that he has started to suspect he never knew me.

"It's not for research." My eyes drop to the floor again, I feel the color in my face rising. I didn't want him to find out. I know as a kid, he got a lot of lip from dad, but I didn't want him to ever find out he could have got worse. Even thinking about this is making me feel like I am going to cry. I bite my bottom lip trying to close it in.

"What?" His voice sounds far away.

I notice that Jack is at the doorway of my apartment.

"It was before you were born, I didn't want you to find …" Words fail as tears begin to sting my eyes. I feel like the ground below me is crumbling. Pacey pulls me into a tight hug, not saying anything. And I feel Jack next to me, rubbing my back concerned.


	6. Six o'clock chatter

Part 6: Six o clock chatter

Some how we get into my office, and Pacey closes the door, and pulls the blinds down over the windows. Jack is holding me in a hug on the couch, and Pacey sits next to us on the edge. "God, I feel stupid, you guys must think I am a completely helpless." I say, trying to stop the sobbing that seems to have overtaken my body. "I can't believe you even found that?"

"You're not helpless. I talked to Gretchen today, and I told her I was worried about you, and she asked if it was because of the book she sent you." He is watching me for a moment. "You know I thought I had you cracked Doug, but seriously I don't think it was until recently that I actually knew you. I mean the whole good son act makes sense now. I can't believe you guys didn't tell me."

"It was almost 30 years ago Pace. He hasn't touched any of you guys…Oh God!" I put my head in my hands. "I didn't want you to find out; you don't know how many nights I prayed he kept his vow!" I try to move, but Jack seems to have me held tight.

Peaking through my hands, I see Jack and Pacey share a look. "I didn't mean to sound like I was yelling at you. I'm sorry." He takes a deep breath, and rubs my shoulder. "It just scares me. I don't want anything to happen to you. I don't want to find out you jump off the water tower or something. Especially now, when we are so close."

I look to the carpet. I can't believe this; I shouldn't have let him know. It seems everything is going wrong now; I am never going to be able to fix this. He is going to think I am weak, and think less of me. And all the thoughts about me being a failure and a bad brother, and a bad son, and a bad police officer, and a bad human being are going to come true. I feel myself begin to shiver violently. "Oh, God! Oh God!" I murmur to myself not sure what to say. This is going to blow up in my face, like every time I reveal a true part of myself and not the cookie cutter image everyone thinks me to be.

"Hey Doug, you need to breathe." Jack says quietly. He pulls me into a tighter embrace. "You're not a bad person, and we don't think you are weak, we are just concerned about you. And you're obviously very uncomfortable talking about it, so if you don't want to we can change the subject."

Pacey moves off the arm of the couch, and gets up going to the file cabinet. He opens a drawer and pulls out a hospital blanket that had been there for ages. "Jack is right; we don't have to talk about this now. I am sorry. " Jack moves a little, and Pacey wraps the blanket around my shoulder. "Obviously, even though it ended almost thirty years ago, you are still affected by it."

I decide to make a break, since Jack has temporary let go off me.I pull myself away from Jack, and move to the edge of the couch, wrapping myself tight in the blanket. I must look like a complete moron. And I wonder sometimes why I am alone, and why I am never going to leave Capeside. I sob into the couch arm for awhile.

Pacey pulls me into a hug after a few seconds. "I didn't mean to upset you this much, I am sorry."

"Not your fault" I murmur, trying to pull away, but he is almost as determined as Jack was a few se

"At least he can still talk." Jack jokes softly; his hand is rubbing my back.

"I feel horrible that you both are here. This is my problem and my dysfunction…"

"Don't. We know what you are going to say?" Jack says very calmly, "it is okay to ask for help. Even if we can't fix the problem, we can listen to you, about anything you want to talk about."

"I don't want to talk about anything. I just want to be left alone."

"I have a better idea. " Pacey stands up, he goes to the desk, and I hear him writing something. "Come on. We're going somewhere" He says, after pulling off a piece of tape on the dispenser on the desk.

"Umm…" I really don't want to go anywhere.

Jack pushes me up softly, so that I am standing on my feet. He gets behind me so, I can't sit back down. His hand is resting gently against the small of my back.

"Can I ask where we are going?"

"We're taking a sick day."

"I can't…" I wipe my eyes, trying to get the tears from stopping. "I am the sheriff."

"Today, you are Doug, and he is not going to be the sheriff. He is going to be Doug." Pacey comments.

Jack takes my hand, and gives me a small nod. "You can just be plain Doug for one day, can't you?"


	7. The Nap Club

Part 7: The Nap Club

A/N : The POV shifts slightly in this section.

I notice in the parking lot, that Pacey must have walked over here, as I only see my cruiser, and Jack's small sports car. "Give me your keys?"

"What?" I ask. The air is cold from the recent rain, and I am regretting the fact that I left the blanket on the couch.

"You're in no condition to drive. I'll drive your cruiser back to the house, and then, you can go with Jack in his car. Unless you just want to leave it sitting here."

"I don't care."

"Give me your keys then." For an instant it seems he is the older brother. I reach into my pocket and hand him the keys. He seems to enjoy greatly driving cruisers even though he has no future as a cop, I think it has something to do with the fact he likes the sirens. But at this point I don't really care.

I walk over with Jack to his red convertible. It is a nice car, I had always wanted a convertible, and it makes me sad that I don't really have a choice in the car I drive, that I have to drive police vehicles most of the time, since they have a tendency to like to call me all the time.

Jack opens the door for me, and I get into the passenger seat, and fasten my seatbelt. Jack walks around the other side of the car, and gets in.

---

The convertible pulls up to the small white cape cod style house that Doug lives in, and that Pacey is staying in temporarily, while his apartment is being re-done. Doug's police cruiser pulls into the drive a few seconds later.

Pacey and Jack get out of the vehicle. "So, I called our work, and we are out sick." Pacey says with a grin. "Where's Doug?"

"Shhh." Jack says, he motions a finger to his mouth. He closes his door, and walks calmly around to the other side of the car. He opens the door of the passenger door.

Pacey and Jack look into the vehicle. "Poor guy." Pacey says tilting his head slightly, to gaze at the sleeping figure of his brother. "So, are we going to leave him in the car to sleep?"

"I can probably carry him, if you get the door."

"You know when I joked about setting you up with Doug because of your crush, I didn't know your first date you would be carrying him over the threshold. I am not even sure you can lift him."

Jack punches him playfully in the arm. "Behave, just stand there and look pretty for a minute, you're going to have to close the car door." Jack reaches over Doug's sleeping form, and unbuckles the seatbelt. He then slides his hands gently under Doug's legs, and pulls him gracefully out of the car, being very careful, not to wake the sleeping form of the sheriff. The sheriff's head moves slightly, and ends up leaning against Jack's chest. Jack gently moves Doug's arm closest to his chest and wraps it around his shoulder, so he doesn't drop him.

"I guess you could lift him, Mcphee." Pacey says closing the door, his voice is a whisper. "I didn't think you could since you guys almost weigh the same size."

"He's not that heavy." They make their way to the door. Pacey pulls out a key and unlocks it.

"Hey, I got an idea!"

"Don't do anything mean to him." Jack scolds.

"No, I was going to say we go back to sleep with him. I mean it is a sick day. It can be like a nap club." Pacey gives him a smirk, "and that way if he has nightmares, there are people who care for him near him when he wakes."

Jack nods. "Okay, which way to the bedroom, so we can have a nap club meeting?"


	8. King of Pain

Chapter 8: The king of Pain

AN : the brief POV shift is over for now, and it is back in Doug's POV. Also, thanks to madscientistgirl, angelicminds, samcdn, and phoenixfirefly for the reviews.

I open my eyes, wondering what time it is. I must be late for work. I am disoriented for a few seconds, and forget where I am.

I am about to spring out of bed, when I notice that Jack is snuggled in my arms, his head resting comfortably on my chest. I also see Pacey out of the corner of my eye, on the other side of the bed, his arm thrown majestically covering his eyes. I feel my sense of awareness coming back. I check the clock it says 12:30. I wonder how long I was sleeping; the last thing I remember is being in Jack's car. I change my position slightly where I can watch Jack sleep. I don't want to wake him up though. I reach down and touch a few strands of his hair, when I notice that he has one eye open and is watching me. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." I whisper, not wanting to wake Pacey up either.

"No, I woke up a few seconds ago. I just didn't want to move and wake you. Pace said you were a light sleeper." He opens both eyes, and tilts his head so he can look at me fully.

I nod. I guess it has always been the police officer in me, which has made me a light sleeper. I never really knew. I could have been a light sleeper before that, but I think once I remember not being able to wake at every little sound, and I am actually surprised I managed to sleep so soundly. I am having this feeling that I missed something that happened like someone knocking on the door, or the phone going off that I usually would have heard.

"Do you want me to move?" He seems so sweet, as if he doesn't want to upset me. "I didn't mean to end up like this. I ..."

I stop him, by giving him a soft smile. "It was nice to find you like that."

He smiles back at me. "How are you feeling?" His eyes seem to scan me for any problems, or worries.

"I am not sure how to answer that." I have never been one to make my answers to questions like 'how are you' long, even though sometimes they were. I try to keep it to a simple 'okay' or 'fine' even if I wasn't feeling that way at all.

The corners of his lips go down slightly, in a slight quizzical manner. "What do you mean?" He watches me for a second. "Not sure how to go past the standard responses or not sure how you are feeling."

"A little of both. " I find my hand still playing with his hair. It is so soft, and kind of fluffy, but by appearance it looks as it might be soft, but I didn't think it would be this fluffy. He doesn't seem to mind though, and I wonder if it is my imagination but he seems to move slightly closer to me on the bed, as if to snuggle into me more. "It's nice to wake up and find you guys here to protect me, but I feel bad for missing work..."

He stops me softly, by placing a finger on my lips, very softly. "You are allowed to take a sick day, Sheriff." He moves slightly, where he is eye level with me. He tilts his head slightly, and kisses me softly on the forehead.

Time seems to stand still for a second as his lips are still on my forehead. I feel a tear start to roll down my cheek, one I hadn't noticed before. I am not sure the reason though. I think part of it has to do with that I am so touched by the gesture.

"What's wrong?" Jack asks, concerned.

"No one has ever done that before."

He nods, as if he understands, and kisses me on the forehead again. He is about to say something, when Pacey sits up bolt right on the bed.

"Wow, already playing kissy face." Pacey jokes. He gives me a concerned smile. "How is it going?"

I move slightly, and sit up, pulling my legs into Indian style. I feel guilty about Jack kissing my head now. I shouldn't. I shrug. "It's hard to describe completely."

Jack sits up on the bed as well, staying sideways so he can watch us both.

Pacey pats my back, as if understands. "Are you hungry, I can make us some lunch?"

"You don't have to. You guys can leave if you wan..."

"We're not going anywhere. We're all playing hooky today, because it is spend time with your favourite brother day, or brother's friend day, and there is nothing you can do about it." Pacey smiles at me. "Don't feel guilty about it either. Now, race you to the bathroom." He smirks, knowing that usually when people wake up that they need to use the bathroom. As he says this, I feel Jack slipping off the bed.

"You can go ahead, Pace. I can wait for you guys to go first if you need to. "

Pacey nods, as if he knew I was going to say that. "Want to race Jack."

Jack smiles at him, one foot already off the bed, and heads out the bedroom door.

"No fair, you cheated." Pacey calls scampering after him.

It makes me chuckle softly watching them, and it is sort of calming in a way to have this playfulness in the house, especially after all that I told them in the last 36 hours, a lot more than I have told a lot of people.

A few minutes later, I sit in the kitchen at the island in the middle of the room, listening to them talk. They had started the cooking while I was in the bathroom, so I am not exactly sure for the most part what they raided my fridge and took as they are being secretative about what they are making.

"It amuses me that the first thing he did was confess his feelings to you." Pacey says, as he cooks something I can't see on one of my frying pans. He smirks at Jack, who is sitting on the counter near the sink, stirring something in a bowl.

Jack sticks his tongue out at Pacey, and it makes me chuckle softly. "I really couldn't think of anything else to say." Jack turns to me. "I do like you, and I don't want to pressure you into anything...because I am sure it was kind of awkward at the police station."

I give him a soft smile. "It's okay."

Pacey turns to me for a second. "Really? It was okay for him to say that." He seems concerned that I may be lying.

I laugh softly. "It's okay now, I didn't say it was totally okay then, it was a bit awkward."


End file.
